Portland as Fuck

Carts

SO, WE HAVE food carts named Built to Grill and Fried Egg I'm in Love. Apparently they're both delicious—I have no idea, because every time I drive by one of them I yell "SHUT UP!" as loud as I can. You've already got a FOOD CART in PORTLAND, now you're going to name it after a band that Nick Hornby would use to make a character seem quirky and interesting? Sew a fucking Pixies patch over your mouth and die, I used to think.

Slowly, though, I'm learning that my deep-seated distrust of all things "cool" just comes from a desire to seem even cooler than those "cool" things, and that isn't cool, Karmel. They're just fucking food carts. They want to make you a sandwich and you're angry about the name? Sew a Pixies patch over your own mouth, you cynical dufus. I'm past that. You want to name your food cart after a band you like? Fucking do it. In fact, here's a list of food carts that I'd like to see open.